The Joy of Dying
by La Joie de Mourir
Summary: An orphanage girl is recruited to be one of the most well-trained assassins, along with other demigods. They kill people who deserve to die. But when a client calls on the ultimate assassination, will everything turn out right? How can one justify death?


**A/N: **Hey. New first fanfic here, all in a day's work. Will probably update weekly or bi-weekly. This story just sprung from an absurd idea in my head so I don't really know if this will turn out into a good story. Read and review! Thanks.  
><strong>Story title:<strong> The Joy of Dying (Title still subject to change)  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The daughter of Thanatos is recruited to be one of the most well-trained assassins, along with other demigods. They kill people, of course, but only those who deserve to die. But when a client calls upon the ultimate assassination mission, who's to say that everything will be alright in the end?  
><strong>CharactersPairings:** Still working things out. Will possibly include Thalico (though I despise that pairing), Percabeth, Percy/Rachel, plus other pairings, including OC stuff.  
><strong>Rating: <strong>T (for now; is subject to change)  
><strong>Timeline:<strong> Post-TLO, TLH & TSN never happened.  
><strong>Warning(s):<strong> Since the rating will possibly change for the following chapter, I do have to warn you that this fic might be a potential darkfic, H/C, angsty, bedridden with the occasional limes. Slight adult themes (maybe even more). Currently weighing my options if I should convert this into 3rd person or not.

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><p><em>With blood shot eyes I watch you sleeping<br>__The warmth I feel beside me is slowly fading  
><em>_Would she hear me if I calls her name?  
><em>_Would she hold me if she knew my shame?_

Tears Don't Fall, Bullet For My Valentine.

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><p>Why, hello there. You might be wondering who the heck I am. Well, that's none of your business, and I'll have to ask you to leave. Aren't you a curious little soul? You see, I'm not one of your regular folk. You might think I'm demented, and maybe you're right, but trust me as I say this, 'cause it might actually save your life.<p>

I'm not an average little human. You might be wondering why. I'm a demigod. A half-blood. I know a lot of people don't believe me as I say this, but it's true. I've known this ever since _he_ started talking to me. Not necessarily in person, but through my dreams.

It all started when I was 11. I was at the orphanage, back in a room I shared with Leslie. Don't worry, she's a normal human. That was the first time _he_ started to talk to me, to communicate with me. My godly parent. Of course, he didn't introduce himself at first.

"Child, it is time you know what I will need of you," he said.

"Yeah, right. You're not the boss of me," was what I replied. Stubborn and selfish, you might say. I don't really mind.

And that's when the pain started. At first, it started creeping up to my knees, the way you have cramps when you twist your leg wrong. It was much, much more worse than that. Pain gushed through my entire body. It felt like your veins got tangled up inside and restricted your blood flow, your muscles, twisting, and yet you can't bend yourself to control the agony. I screamed, I cried, but I couldn't move myself.

The man laughed cruelly. It was only then that the pain started to subside, relief flowed like blood in me. I saw where I was in the dream. A tormented landscape. Dead trees, burning bushes, ashes everywhere, it looked like a playground for the dead, which maybe, was where I was.

"Well, then, child," he crooned. He was a middle-aged man with graying hair, and a scar on the right side of his face. He was wearing a black suit, and he was holding a cane. "It seems to me that you know who the boss is now."

An unknown force bent me to my knees, bowing down to him. It was torture. I couldn't do anything but struggle against my invisible bonds, but it was no use. This was a dream, but shouldn't I be the one to control it? How was he able to manipulate me?

"Who…Who are you?" Even speaking was a problem, like my own voice holding back the words. The sentence made me choke.

"Why, that is to no importance to you now. One thing you should know is," he breathed deeply, "I am your father."

Despite the surroundings, I couldn't help but laugh at the Star Wars reference. He raised his eyebrows and instinctively, I stopped smiling. I guess this isn't the moment to do those kinds of things.

"You shall need to be trained. I have an important task for you." He moved closer. "I need you, to kill the savior of Olympus."

"Hardy-har-har," I managed to say, against my will of course. "Nobody wants to believe your stupid crap! What kind of lunatic would wanna trust someone who wants to kill the savior of Olympus? Ha, I doubt these things even exist." Mockery lined my voice with a cruel edge, and a vicious sneer crept up from my face.

"Wrong answer."

I woke up to a splash of freezing water and the look of exasperated faces surrounding me. "Emily, are you okay?" asked the orphanage director, the look of anxiety evident on her wrinkled face. "You were screaming and Leslie was trying to wake you up and we heard some snapping, and…Ohmygod, please be alright."

I tried to get up, but to no avail. "Y-yeah, I think I'm alright." I wobbled my legs and wiggled my arms. "Nothing seems to be broken." I doubt that they would believe me and my dream if I told them. I am prejudiced, I believe that they will never understand me, no matter how much they care.

"Well, it's only three in the morning. Get some sleep, girls." The director commanded us, heaving a sigh of relief. She went out the door and turned off the lights. "Good night," she said.

"Technically, it's already morning. I think she's gone insane," sympathized Leslie, my roommate. She was older than me by a year, which made her immediately protective of me. Perhaps she's the one soul I do tend to trust.

Come later that morning, I was adopted. Three things that made me worry that day: He was the man in my dream. I'm leaving the orphanage and Leslie. They knocked me unconscious as soon as they pushed me into the car. Uh-oh.


End file.
